


Trick or Treat?

by LifeLover



Series: Oscar/Bosie Holidays [1]
Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Oscar Wilde Murder Mysteries - Gyles Brandreth, Wilde (1997)
Genre: I love romance!, M/M, Oscar/Bosie fluff!, halloween fic, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeLover/pseuds/LifeLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar is alone for Halloween and wishing for Bosie's company.  Will he get his wish? Shameless fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trick or Treat?

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless fluff. This is my first Oscar/Bosie fic. I also have a Christmas one and will continue with other holidays for it to become a series. I hope you like. REVIEW!! “*whisper* please ….”
> 
> ~~~~~

Oscar Wilde, one of the greatest playwrights in London, let out a sigh. He held a wine glass in one hand, the stem delicately balanced between two fingers. Right now, he was the only soul in the house. Tonight was All Hallow’s Eve, and Constance and the children were at a friend’s country estate. The servants had retired for the night and Bosie (Lord Alfred Douglas) was unavailable, having been called away to a meeting with his father.

Bosie. Bosie, _Bosie, **Bosie**_. The name was a bell, its clap sending tremors though Oscar. Oscar hated to admit he needed anything, even to himself, but he needed Bosie. When he was with Bosie, he didn’t have to play the part of the ‘famous Oscar Wilde.’ He was just Oscar, just an aesthete, just a man who couldn’t control his own emotions. Just a man to be loved.

God, he wanted Bosie. Wanted to taste him, to hear his name repeated in that voice. Wanted to be pleasured by Bosie and only Bosie.

The doorbell suddenly rang, disturbing Oscar’s sweet thoughts. Slightly curious as to who might be ringing at this hour of the night, Oscar stood up from the soft couch where he’d been reclining. He set his wine-glass on the mantel and went to open the door.

There was an electrical charge in the air, a sense that something special might happen. This was realized when the door opened and an angel stood on the stone doorstep. His voice floated out.

“Trick or Treat?”

And Oscar knew that voice, and those impossibly blue eyes, and those perfectly ruby-red lips. And the angel was pulled into the house and Oscar leaned into the angel and murmered against the satin skin of his pale neck (with just the hint of a plea),

“Treat, _oh God_ , treat!”

~~~

Better than cotton candy or Swiss chocolate or fine pastries. Better than starry nights or a hot bath or a theatre’s applause. Better than anything words could possibly express, because nobody could do better than Bosie.

And Bosie was certainly doing his best as he took in Oscar, letting the pleasure rise and ebb, shaping it like a confectioner’s delight. As he gasped out Oscar’s name, climaxing, Oscar felt himself give and as he trembled and shook, a rose in a whirlpool, the one focus were those blue, _blue_ eyes. Like the sky, they kept him steady and free with love shining from every speck.

And as Oscar lay, he looked at the sleeping man curled next to him, the long lashes soft on the face, golden lock tousled and delicate mouth slightly curved in a soft smile. Bosie was his angel, and Oscar curled around Bosie to join him in sleep, because no matter where it was, with Bosie it could only be called Paradise.


End file.
